Home
Sunday - Out of the Box
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2370
And today I've resolved to get the boy out of his box. And myself as well, but as I'm long past my formative years it's not so important.
We go to the "Shooting Edge" and sign up to fire a few (50 each) rounds off from some pistols, we choose the SIG 9MM handgun for this.
He's way out of his box.
While we wait for the lanes to open up we peruse the shop and surreptitiously size up the clients, the usual suspects, men in Camo hats and vests, gansta's, punks....
In hushed tones I debrief the boy as to shooting lane etiquette. I'm no pro but I've been before, a long time ago...."No shouting 'DIE MUTHA-FUCKA'S DIE YOU BASTARDS and no.....". Sometimes I think I'm just reminding myself.
After a half an hour we get our primer on how to load the magazine, handle the weapon, earmuffs and goggles and we're set to go.
50 rounds go quick. The boy, he does OK, I don't do so good, all my shots hit the target but most of them are low, the "Ranger" explains that I'm reacting to the recoil of the gun before I pull the trigger. Makes sense, but curious...
When we're done I sweep up a handful of shells and the used targets as souvenirs, the boy's trying to play it cool and leave aside his target but I won't have it...."Paste a picture of your least favorite teacher to it and leave it around the school where someone can find it...." I tell him.
What's up with kids nowadays that you have to do all of their thinking for them?
***
After which we head down to the Market Collective in Kensington. From one extreme to the other. And I note that to be truly hip and fashionable I should really start growing in some facial hair. It kills an hour, there's lots to see and buy, but I'm not really too materialistic at the moment...
***
After which I'm starving and so we go across the street to Sam's super Shwarma. Sam's super friendly, "Hi My Friends" he says, as if we're in there every week, and he makes us up our donairs and small talks, it's a little as if we've walked into some stranger's living room and interrupted his coffee and instead of telling us to F*** OFF he's making us up meals and catching up on the story of our lives....Makes me uncomfortable, frankly, and the boy as well.
***
Then to the Plaza Theatre in Kensington, just to see what's playing. And as luck would have it there's a movie - 2012: The Time for Change - it's a lot of rubbish, but we don't know until we've seen it. But it's out of the box Sunday, and really, I think we have it kind of covered for the day...
dead in the park clutching the earth...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1750
She went missing about a week ago, people were looking for her ever since. I was looking for her too, in my own way, heard rustlings up ahead on the trail, would run at them but find nothing, would call out her name, no reply.
But today, finally, we, (the children and I) found her, face down dug into, clawed into a shallow grave of her own digging. She must have hid out here from everyone, until finally she collapsed....
It's a long walk from here out of the park, and while we leave I cover her up with some sort of blanket. And we meet at the edge of the park a midget on a date, it was him who reported her missing and we give him the bad news and he accuses us of doing nothing and I explain things to him and he just goes back to eating his picnic with his date.
It's beginning to snow, and we get home and then the dream starts to get real weird...
Under The Skin - Wen Wei Dance & Bejing Modern Dance Company
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Theatre
- Hits: 1588
At The Grand tonight, and there was no persuading the boy to attend. After "The Ballad of Ricky and Ronnie" it will be a while before he goes to the Grand again.
A shame, because it was quite good. The first half especially, evocative dance numbers, the sound of waves crashing, the dance (smooth, graceful, swimming, articulated bodies and limbs) reminding one of drowning, shipwrecks, and a clear gauze separates the white dancers from the Chinese (intentional, 2 groups of 6 dancers...) as they watch upon the scene.
The second act, more dystopian, fractured, jerky, "modern" movements, the integration of cultures, dance styles, mixed media, video and lights, more dissonance than harmony.
Of course, it's interpretive dance and how I see it is not, necessarily, how you're going to see it. Well done, well performed, worthwhile. And remember that only fools stay for the talk-back ....
Rewards
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2223
As part of any good motivational program I have a system of poorly defined rewards. For example, I pay bills X, Y and Z and then I can reward myself with something good, like toilet paper. Sadly things like scotch and whiskey have moved into the realm of "daily necessities...".
Or, if the bills I pay are large enough (and there's no shortage of those), I could reward myself with a Big Screen HD Color TV.
I dwell upon this fantasy for a while.
Odd, because I don't really watch TV. The odd DVD once or twice a year, but that's it. The TV is more of an eyesore than anything else, one of those "Must Have's" for 20th Century life.
But I imagine it set up downstairs in the living room. To justify the purchase I'd put it down as an "improvement" on the property, it wouldn't be mine, it would stay with the house and when the ex moved back in it would be hers. And I could purchase a terabyte hard drive and move all my movies to it and run a cable downstairs to the TV so I could download and watch whatever movie whenever I wanted.
It seems like a good idea, the economics are sound and it would be a reward, of sorts, except that I never watch TV.
Never, ever.
Maybe I'd watch more TV if I had a giant screen HD monstrosity taking up the spare wall space in the living room, but it seems like poor reasoning and bad speculative logic to purchase the TV on the off chance I might watch it. And really, my life is pretty full without it.
And so I'm left searching for some other grubby materialistic reward to justify a life lived in servitude. Maybe a new watch? (and here I laugh, because I have over a hundred watches and need another watch like Calgary needs a $25 million dollar pedestrian bridge, but, hey, I paid for the bridge, why shouldn't I pay for the watch....?). Or - and here I take a big leap - a trip?
I could take a trip with the boy...Las Vegas, or some other major US center...maybe even London for a few days, take in some shows, comb the Thames for broken bits of china and clay pipe stems, bits to be used in my mixed media projects....
But the logistics of this, in the job I'm in, well, they're difficult. And so I'm back to searching for some other way to blow off a bit of economic steam...
Rewards implies something I need or want, and I'm at this curious impasse in my life where the only thing I need or want is time to myself. Which is the one thing, ironically, I can't afford. And so it goes...
Page 729 of 888